


Losing

by NancyBrown



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Butt Plugs, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-19
Updated: 2011-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-19 13:49:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NancyBrown/pseuds/NancyBrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack always cheats. That doesn't mean Ianto doesn't sometimes lose on purpose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Jack/Ianto, Jack likes fucking Ianto repeatedly so that he's full of come. Bonus points if he makes Ianto then wear a butt plug for the whole day before he's allowed to clean off.  
> AN: First, I am aware that as a story, this is terrible. Second, I am weirdly proud of it anyway.

Jack always cheats. That doesn't mean Ianto doesn't sometimes lose on purpose. He spent all day today, when he wasn't running for his life, with fantasy after fantasy of Jack spreading him out, spreading him open, fucking him hard. He works on reports at his desk in the TIC, palming himself from time to time to relieve the ache as pornos starring him and Jack play out in his head.

When the other three drag home at nearly midnight and Jack suggests a game of tag, Ianto loses so hard and fast Jack has to know. The glint in his eyes could be acknowledgement but the hunger in his mouth is raw.

"Downstairs," he orders between kisses.

"Right here," Ianto replies between his own.

Jack's lips are the third most talented part of his body. He attacks Ianto's throat with little nips, sucking on an earlobe while his fingers (second most) are busy with buttons. Ianto's hands have their own work ahead of them, and reward him with the slithery sound of Jack's belt, a particular noise that goes in his ears and directly to his balls. Braces, shirts, trousers, everything piles to one side as Jack's lips worship the skin of Ianto's abdomen.

The Hub's floor has a cold that seeps through bone, and Jack's rolled-up trousers are a poor pillow, but Jack lays him down just like his fantasy did, and then Jack's tongue, ah ...

"Fuck!"

Jack's tongue is shameless and focused and wet, leaving spittle to cool on Ianto's dick and around his hole before delving into his arse. Jack's big hands are on his thighs, spreading him wide. Ianto's head goes back.

The roof is far away, shrouded in darkness with the overnight settings. He can hear everything from Mainframe's hum to Myfanwy's soothing crackle above them. His skin is cool where Jack's mouth was, and burns everywhere else, as Jack makes this obscene slurping sound, opening him wide.

Jack pulls away. "Tell me how it feels." His voice is choked and low. More than once, he's brought himself off just by pleasuring Ianto.

"Like you're eating me open, like you're making me wide for your big cock." Jack's a size queen. Ianto can work with that. He's rewarded by another long thrust of writhing tongue. "You ... you feel thick and wet, and oh god, Jack, fuck me now."

Jack doesn't need any more encouragement. He does need lube. Ianto lays there, panting and tugging on his own dick, ready while Jack digs out a sachet and covers himself with slick, giving Ianto a good, cold fingerful.

"Want you," Jack breathes, and then it's a hard, slow shimmy inside. Ianto lets out his breath slowly as Jack fucks into him. He's used to the stretch and burn, the fullness that's akin to a soft BM and the pleasure that's like nothing else he's ever done. They shift together, his legs over Jack's arms, looking for the right angle, the perfect position. When Jack hits his prostate, Ianto makes a noise that's part yelp and part groan.

"So fucking good," he bites out, eyes squeezed shut, hand furious on his cock. It's not long until Jack's rhythm hitches and he's slamming into Ianto's arse, orgasm moaning in his throat. Ianto's been close all day and lets himself go, entire body spasming while his brain goes dim and soft.

It's a mess. He's a mess. But he feels fantastic with Jack collapsed on top of him, all his nerves tingling.

When he goes to move, Jack holds him still. "Stay." The floor is cold, and he's already stiff, but Jack's tender now, and his body radiates enough warmth for both.

Torchwood is bad for proper sleep, but naps are useful. Ianto wakes a few hours later, still sticky and stiff. Jack's eyes are open, watching him. He's seems so open, Ianto reaches up to kiss him. It's not passion now, merely affection. They've been fucking each other for over a year. They're working their way up to "I like you" territory. Maybe they'll start going steady.

Ianto lets out a breathy laugh.

"What?"

"Nothing." He twists and rolls until Jack is on the cold floor and Ianto is atop him, head to toe touching with sticky skin. The kissing turns heated, as it always does. The lube is close by, Ianto is still wet with spunk, Jack is hard against him.

In the dim light, he can see Jack's face. Two sets of hands slick him up, two hold his cock into place as Ianto slides down on it, groaning at the new stretch. His knees aren't going to last long in this position, not on the floor, but he rises and falls slowly, letting Jack take over the pace as he thrusts up and in again and again.

He knows there are two CCTV cameras pointed to this area of the Hub. They'll have to erase tonight's footage, or the next security sweep will show Tosh Ianto riding Jack's cock from multiple angles.

The mental image of her face, drawn into a O of surprise, the sight of her skin flushing first in embarrassment and then in arousal, these drive him on, impaling himself as Jack lets out soft gasps, punctuated by, "So good, so tight." If he's imagining anyone else, he's not dropping names. Ianto wonders who else he would imagine, if Ianto would take the place of some past lover, or someone Jack had yet to sample, or knowing Jack, if he pictures a third and fourth person joining them. Maybe the open-mouthed stare is Jack pretending to have another cock in his mouth, sucking as he fucks. Maybe the "so tight" is his grinding into some virgin cunt, wet and open for him alone. Or the reverse: Jack's tongue licking the soft, dripping lips of some gorgeous woman's pussy, while a second long, thick penis slides into Ianto's arse beside Jack's.

Ianto comes, a slower dribble this time to cover his hand, while Jack lets out a shout and buries himself deep. Ianto can't feel him come, only feels the slippery slide as Jack's cock, reluctantly softening, pulls free.

He ought to go to the toilet, but Jack's arms are hard around him, and Ianto is exhausted. He only closes his eyes for a minute.

"They'll be here soon," Jack murmurs into his ear, and Ianto startles awake. He's naked on the floor, Jack holding him.

"What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty." Jack's hands are at his face, drawing him close for another kiss. "We've got some time."

"I should shower. And find new clothes."

"It can wait."

Jack's rolling him over, mouth working Ianto's cleverly, hands brushing over his body. Ianto is acutely aware of how filthy he is, covered in the dried remains of his own semen. "Jack."

"Let me have you again. I've been watching you for an hour. Please."

Ianto lets out a pretend sigh, but it's morning and his own erection has taken notice of Jack's. "Fine. But I'm fucking you tonight."

"Oh god yes," Jack says, and then he doesn't say much else that isn't moaned. Ianto's not as horny, but he likes being wanted by Jack, who could so easily have anyone but comes to Ianto every night with new games and an eager smile. Jack's had the universe, but he wants him.

Ianto's a bit sore. Jack shifts and the pain just adds to the pleasure. It's Jack's hand gently working his cock now, while Ianto's hands make fists on Jack's broad back. His lips are on Ianto's ear, and he chants a husky, "Come for me, come for me now" until Ianto has no choice but to comply, surging between them in pulses until he's limp and sated. Jack fucks and fucks to his own climax, panting.

He wants to say, "I like you." He wants to say more. He says, "Shower."

"Don't."

"I'm a complete mess, and so are you."

"You're perfect," Jack says, kissing his neck. "I want to be inside you all day."

"You won't be able to walk," Ianto points out, enjoying the image anyway.

"Keep my come inside you. Let me know it's there."

Even now, Ianto can feel the familiar dripping between his legs. His pants will be full. "It'll be noticed."

"Bet you it won't."

They stare at each other. Ianto says, "Guess what number I'm thinking of and I'll say yes." He puts in his head a picture of the number nine.

Jack licks Ianto's nose. "Four." He's playful and happy, and his face is at ease.

"You guessed right."

"I always do."

It's the largest plug Jack owns in a set of five. "Sometimes you want depth, sometimes you want thickness," Jack explained when Ianto asked. He's had each of them inside him before. This one is nearly painful, but the expression on Jack's face as he fits it into place makes Ianto's heart swell.

Jack allows him a flannel to clean off his chest before he puts on his spare suit right before the others arrive. Even as the cogwheel opens, Ianto spies a black sock that got missed from their quick tidying and shoves it under a desk with his shoe. Just that movement makes him aware all over again of the intrusion.

The day is full of chases, and ends with meeting up with a UNIT squadron who were tracking the same vessel violating Earth's airspace. There's a debriefing that lasts longer than it needs to, as Ianto tries not to shift in his chair. Every so often, Jack looks at him without expression, and Ianto becomes aware of the pressure in his arse, the slippery feel of the plug coated with Jack's come. He hopes his swallow isn't too apparent. He really hopes the wood of the table is enough to hide how hard he is all over again.

He's certain Gwen has noticed something weird going on between them, but she doesn't say anything, simply gives him that look which she thinks is friendly but Ianto reads as sympathy. She believes Jack badgers him into everything they do together. She thinks Jack cheats at their games so he can use Ianto's body as a sex toy. She says, when they have quiet drinks together some nights and her tongue is loosened, Ianto deserves better. She would never lose on purpose, and he nods and accepts her smile, and he shifts to feel the plug move. Jack's eyes darken.

When UNIT is satisfied and the rest are gone, and Ianto is filledtighthot to bursting having waited so long to be alone, Jack clicks off his lamp.

"I was thinking," Jack says, gaze boring through Ianto. "Let's play hide-and-seek tonight."

Jack loses spectacularly. He doesn't even bother hiding.

In the darkness of the bunker, Ianto loves the slick feel of lube on his fingers, loves the tight clench of Jack's arse around his knuckles, loves the moans and shudders Jack makes as Ianto spreads him open wide.

He loves too the pressure inside himself, the plug thicker than a cock, keeping Jack's semen inside him this whole long day. As he fucks into Jack's hole, watching the blunt head of his cock disappear, it's like someone has been fucking him all day long. He and Jack and their own private threesome. He wants Jack to feel this, wants him filled up and fucking and perfect. His balls are heavy, and his thoughts are slow like syrup, focusing on the ring of muscle he slides through, the depth of his stroke to find Jack's pleasure points, the heat between them on the camp bed, and the chill of the air, cooling the sweat rolling down his back.

"Love this," Jack moans, "love you so fucking much."

Jack's tight and wet with lube, and Ianto is full with come, and neither has anything to do with the orgasm ripping through him. Jack isn't there yet, but Ianto's not wasted enough that he can't use his hand to help. He watches Jack's face as he comes, watches the pleasure and the peace washing over him, kisses him tenderly.

Losing on purpose is just another way to win the game.


End file.
